It’s been a long, 5-years (or 1 week). I have caught what I’m pretty sure is the man-flu, commonly referred to as “a cold”. Except in my breathless state, the inability to suck air through my face on a normal day is magnified by exceptionally stuffy nostrils. Did you know pregnant women can produce a ton of extra snot even when they feel perfectly healthy? IT ME. Plus, my non-existent energy levels just dipped into the negative numbers and y’all I feel like I could just die.
I’m so serious, I had to sit down three times walking from the living room to the shower upstairs. And then I couldn’t bring myself to stand up in the shower once I got in so I just sat in the tub and rinsed my hair with a 32-ounce plastic gas station cup like a barbarian.
If anyone needs me I’ll be here over-producing mucus as I huff and puff around the house chasing small children, cause pimpin’ don’t take sick days.
I’ve definitely been in Mrs. Worse mode lately, where the tears are shed freely and everyone eats cereal without milk for dinner. So you guys pray for Mr. Better and the rest of the family: may they all be steadfast with love and understanding, and may they absorb every last ounce of nourishment from those dry crunch berries.
My family and I spent Labor Day weekend at a church retreat in the mountains of Oklahoma (they’re no Colorado Rockies, but some really big boulder-y hills actually exist). I sat in a chair and moved as little as possible, while Caleb wrangled Lucy, Arbor terrorized the cabin, and Mia and Merrick played with friends. We all got to spend time getting to know some of the people at our new church. It was so refreshing for my spirit to get out of the house and focus on God and family.
I couldn’t hike, but that’ll be different next year, I don’t care if I got two babies in a double carrier hanging off the front of me and Lucy riding around on my back. The mountains are calling, and I must go…
…to the kitchen for Greek olives and graham crackers, because it’s like 9:00 p.m. and these twins don’t play around with their nighttime snacks.
We celebrated Arbor’s 4th birthday a few days ago with a homemade cake and a few presents and absolutely zero party-goers, because when it comes to party-planning, my motivation left about…8-10 years ago. Besides, four-year olds who have frequent meltdowns on big days are probably better off with a low-key celebration anyway, and Arbor was beside herself with happiness over her new Belle dress. Then she overdosed on sprinkles and passed the junk out by 6:30.
Good times had by all.